


Childhood

by MyNameIsRebeccaNotRebbie



Category: Jaspar (YouTube), Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bullying, Childhood, Depressed!Dan, M/M, Sad!Phil, happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6465853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameIsRebeccaNotRebbie/pseuds/MyNameIsRebeccaNotRebbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan's childhood was taken away from him, so he wants to live it now. He starts work at a créche, and a mysterious boy catches his attention...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sunshine

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dan giggled, but he cut himself off immediately. It hadn't appeared before this moment to him that this wasn't flirting - that it was just a conversation.

"Well, um, she's been away all week working." The mysterious boy said. Then there was silence. The kind of silence that harrows you. The kind of silence that just leaves you to unpick all the stupid words and sentences and shitty puns you vomited into the conversation. The kind of silence that helps you realise that you are a complete idiot.  
"Yeah well - ahem - I should be getting to school..." The black haired boy said, fiddling with his hair. Dan had noticed that the boy does that, fiddle with his hair.

Dan exhaled as soon as the boy had left the front building. God he was shit. It was his first week and there was already one client who would definitely not come back to the crèche.

Stepping Stones crèche was an amazing job for Dan. Although his clothing came off as gothic and scary (mainly consisting of black), he loved small kids, how happy they always were. They were just constantly smiling - apart from when they're crying, but Dan just sort of deals with it - but they only smiled because they had no idea what was going on around them. Oblivious to the mess that the world is, and the mess their worlds will probably become.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan took the little girl by the hand and escorted her to Peacock playroom (one of the nurseries in the establishment). Her thin ginger hair was in two plaits today, slouching over her shoulder looking effortlessly cute. Her brother, the boy, had ebony black hair but it absorbed so much light it had to be dyed. Dan secretly hoped that underneath the black hair, the cute boy was ginger too, but he wasn't really sure why.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After Dan's reception shift he was on play duty. That was just playing around with stupid kids toys with the little ones. Their giggles filled the whole room and just brightened up Dan's day. The light shone through the large windows that looked out onto the playground and flushed out all the shadows and darkness. In England it had been considerably rainy and damp for the last month. Dan, even though he was the most rational, logical thinker he knew, secretly wished the sun was a sign. The sign of his own sun, who would come and flush out his darkness and shadows and make him feel how he felt when he was a toddler, but that wasn't going to happen.


	2. Dan's Life - Part 8

He wandered down the streets, going round to his old house. Skyscrapers of manchester loomed above him. They felt like they were going to collapse onto his frail body, crushing him. They weren't the pretty skyscrapers from the pictures from New York either. Dan had one taped to his bed at St. Margaret's, hopeful of visiting somewhere as beautiful one day. When he'd hoped to live in the city with the love of his life, this wasn't what he had in mind.

Dan twiddled with his fringe as he got nearer the bad neighbourhood he used to call home. He was seventeen, and something bad was surely going to happen. Although he could see empty syringes littering the ground and empty sheets of pills floating in the wind, this was where the happiest memories of his life had been. Some happy, and some not-so-happy. He can't say the worst, because this definitely wasn't here (but it was in his top three, at least). When he was little he dreamt of living here his entire life, having a great marriage and a dog or a cat and having kids and having lots of money and having a great car and being happy. That's what he wanted, but that wasn't going to happen here. 

Dan was wearing black, so blended in with the druggies and weirdos wandering the streets around him. He knew he looked like shit, but for most of his life, he's felt like shit. His hair wasn't straightened, and looked like a curly mess on top of his head. He tried to convince it to go into the normal side parting, but it just looked even messier. He had a bruise on the side of his cheek that made his dimples ache when he smiled, so he didn't.

He approached the end of his road with his ex-house on it. He got to the end and sighed. He knew he shouldn't have come. He could see the happy memories acting out in his mind, it they were soon overshadowed by the bad ones. Bad, bad ones. He looked to the sky, and watched the grey clouds slowly cover the sun.   
"Fuck off, sky, pathetic fallacy isn't an actual thing," he said out loud, not like there was anyone else around to see it. He looked down the road and then turned and walked away. This was no place for a child or anyone living a childhood.

Dan only fell into one of those categories. He no longer classified as a child, but his childhood was taken away from him, so he was living his childhood now, and would continue to for the rest of his life.

He walked away from the road, away from the neighbourhood, away from that part of the city. He left, and he promised himself to never come back, because that was no place for a child. He was walking around, looking for nothing in particular, when he approached a zebra crossing, and couldn't help but smile to himself.

~~~~~~~~~

It was the evening, but Dan was happy. It was dark outside (and Dan was afraid of the dark), but Dan was happy. He had seen his old house, old street today, but Dan was happy. He had found the perfect job today. He had managed to surround himself with happy children. Happy children that would make him happy, too. Happy and naïve like them, so he could forget the things he wanted to forget.

His bed was hard and cold, and not a bed. His duvet was stiff and damp, and definitely not a duvet. His bedroom was windy and rainy, and not a bedroom. His ceiling was the cold grey sky, and not a ceiling. He was not warm, he was not comfortable and he was not in a bedroom. He was on the floor. The floor of the pavement. He didn't have a marriage, or a dog, or a cat, or kids, or much money, or a car. He didn't have anything he thought he would when he was little, but he was happy.


	3. Fairy Dust

The boy came back again on Wednesday. His hair looked the same and he had the same white stain on his black jeans. There was a definitive consistency to the boy's clothing every day, the only thing that changed being the plaid and flannel shirts that he wore without fails. He approached the counter with his little sister holding his hand. 

He looked at Dan, expecting him to say something. Dan was just staring at the siblings, lost in both of their glowing blue eyes. He averted his eyes back to the black haired boy, who was biting his full lower lip, looking down at the linoleum floor of the nursery reception. Dan was snapped out of his trance by a little giggle from in front of the desk. He leant over his workspace to find the girl - who's name may have been Tabitha?  
\- giggling, looking up towards her older brother.

"Ah..um...well..." Dan stumbled on his words, trying to remember what acting normal was like. He looked at the boy who was still looking down at the floor. His face was perfectly symmetrical and flawless apart from a graze on his left cheek covered partially by a plaster, but the way the boy held himself made even a graze look dainty and beautiful.

"Look can you please book Tabby in and stop looking at my cut I need to get to school," the boy muttered, barely audible over the children in the nurseries behind the reception. Had Dan really been looking for that long? Was it that obvious? Oh God.

"Ah..oh..I'm um, terribly sorry, um...sorry I don't think I got your name?" Dan asked, trying to be as not-awkward as possible and still get the boy's number.

"You don't want to know my name. You don't want to know me. I've seen you look at me. I know what you're thinking, but I know that you won't like me" the boy said, not parting his gaze from the floor. Before dan had time to reply, the boy said goodbye to his sister and turned to walk out.

"No, wait," dan said a bit too loudly, "I haven't met you, you haven't met me. I know I look like shit, but I want to talk. Just for today."

The mysterious boy looked questionably at Dan and just sort of stood, as if he was trying to figure something out but couldn't quite get there. Dan chuckled.

"I'm sure school won't miss you too much," he said, trying to lighten the mood. The mysterious boy couldn't help but smirk a little. He looked back at his sister, who was sat obediently by the desk distracted by her beaded bracelet. She was in a small Tinkerbell dress with built in fairy wings and she had laid a matching green magic wand beside her feet on the floor. She had left a trail glitter from the doorway to the counter, because every step she took her dress malted a little. She was a child. She thought wearing her magic dress would make her magic. Dan hoped her magic would rub off onto him and the boy would stay. He would need some serious magic for that, though.  
"Whatever," Mystery Boy said as he walked over to dan with his hand out. "I'm Phil," said Phil. Dan took his hand and shook it. Tabitha really was magic...


	4. Dan's Life - Part 7

In a fit of rage, Dan stormed up into his bedroom and grabbed the biggest bag he could find. He stopped moving, only just realising that the bag had followed him. This was the exact same scenario as to when he was seven. The rage, the crying, the frantic packing, and the thoughts of running. Last time they didn't work. Last time he went to St. Margaret's anyway. It would work this time though. This time, he was older. He knew what he was doing. He didn't know where he was going, or who he was going with, but he knew he was going. He was going to run.

He shoved all he could in is old, battered black bag. It was filled to the brim, almost unable to be closed when Dan saw his hair straighteners out of the corner of his eyes. His fiddled with his long fringe, stretching it as far down his face as possible trying to straighten it with his hands. He couldn't this time. He picked them up in an attempt to throw them and break them, but they were on and singed his whole palm on his left hand. He dropped them but had no time to tend to his wound. He closed the bag contains just clothes and a bottle of Lynx africa. He needed to still not look like a walking turd even if he sleeps on a pavement.

He wanted to leave his mark. Sarah and Oliver were out at church and he had somehow got out of going. They were no doubt praying for him, the messed up kid. He looked up to his bedroom wall, and his eyes laid on a black cross with an intricate model of Jesus on it. He tried to grab hold of it, but his fresh burns made him pull his hand away (he knew his left-handedism was a curse). He used his right hand to pry the cross off the wall, and he promptly proceeded to snap it in half on his knee.

He plummeted down the stairs and looked around at the other walls of the house. He had never quite noticed how many crosses were hung up around he Barrys' house. He broke all the ones he could reach. The tabletop ones, the simple ones, the expensive ones. The marble one in the kitchen proved difficult to snap, so he threw it at the kitchen window and it went flying out into the garden, going right into the washing line, throwing one of Sarah expensive dresses into a muddy patch if grass.

And then he left.

With his phone in his pocket, he just opened the front door and closed it, making sure he didn't have a key with him. Curly had broke one of the straps on his bag, so when he outfit on his back he sort of slanted one way, as if he had a limp. He hen tried his best to run, but the bag made it uncomfortable to walk,so he soon gave up on that idea. 

This is bullshit Dan thought, wandering off the main road into an alleyway. He was an adult now. He counted as an adult, but he hasn't felt like a child for a very long time. His real childhood ended a long time ago. When he was seven, no no, before he was seven, he already had to be his own adult. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair. He stroked the side of his cheek, where his bruise was already forming. He winced as he touched it too hard. He had let this happen, he had let his guard down. This was all his fault.

He walked through the alleyway with his weird limp bag and a burnt hand, with his other hand placed on his cheek. A weird looking guy in a beaten up beanie and a raggedy beard was walking the other way down the alley, towards Dan. He took a sharp intake of breath and turned around. Dan tried his best to walk as fast as he could out of the alley back onto the main road, but he man behind him was shouting. Dan was so tired he had to try his best to tune in to what he was saying.

"Hey, he-hey kid!" He shouted, with a strong Bradford accent, "what's a kid like you doin' down 'ere then?" He had caught up with Dan and placed his hand on his shoulder, and Dan flinched away. He then started running. The old man didn't pursue after Dan. He didn't run behind him. He just shouted again, "Good luck, then, kid,"  
Dan was almost out of the alleyway. He stopped running and shouted back to the man, "I'm not a kid," They made eye contact for a few seconds then Dan took off again.

Dan knew exactly why he had run. He wasn't a kid. He was never a kid. It wasn't fair. He wanted to be a kid, so away from Sarah and Oliver's house was the best place to be. Anywhere away from them. They made him do his own washing. They made him cook them meals twice a week. Those were not childish things.

Now that he had left, he could live out his childhood. He has already made himself some rules.

\+ If he sees a playground, he will play on it.  
\+ If he sees something he wants in a shop and he has the money on him, he will buy it  
\+ He will look past negativity  
\+ He will run away from negative people, like literally, just run away  
\+ And very importantly, he must always jump on zebra crossings, never touching the road.

He was going to be a child again, and he was glad about it. The only problem was that he was not a child. He would not have help in being a child, so he would only have himself to motivate him. It was going to be hard, but he was going to be happy at the end of it. Happy like a child.


	5. Cuts and Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ++I have nothing against Joe Sugg or Caspar Lee. I actually quite like them, I just put their names in for the hell of it ++

The Caterpillar Room wasn't the most romantic spot in the world, but it was quiet enough for the boys to have a conversation. Dan was on a break and Phil, previously known as the mysterious boy, didn't go to school today. Somehow, Dan had convinced him that it wasn't that much of a big deal.

Phil's black hair was slightly covering one of his ocean blue eyes, but he kept pushing it back every twenty seconds - it kept slipping down. He wasn't saying anything. He was just looking down at the floor of the nursery that was stained with generations of shitty kids paint. He was tracing the outline of a particularly large green blob with his foot. 

"Hello?" a voice asked, "are you still here?" 

Dan snapped out of his trance. "Sorry, did you say something?" He asked, red flushing to his cheeks.

"I just asked how come your working at a créche? Like, you don't look like the kinda guy who would work around little kids. Y'know, you dress like a goth or something," Phil said quickly and quietly in his mumble.

"Oh, I just really like how happy they are all the time. It's nice." Dan said, faltering slightly at the end, suddenly realising how...peadophilic he sounded. "Not in, like, a creepy way just how naïve they are or whatever," he said, trying to brush it off casually.

"Yeah I get it. When Tabby's laughing or doing her little giggle, it makes me want to laugh and be happy with her."

There was a silence between the two boys. Not an awkward silence, just a silence of acceptance. Acceptance of each other. They both stared into each other's eyes. Dan's gaze slightly jerked down towards Phil's graze on his cheek, where the plaster was slowly peeling off revealing a rather deeper cut. 

"Where'd you get that cut?" Dan asked, using his eyes to sort of say he didn't mean it offensively or anything, he was just wondering. He probably just looked demented. Phil didn't answer for a second, looking back at the paint spotted ground. He breathed in deeply a few times, like he was going to speak but then forgot what he was going to say. 

"Well, how'd you get that bruise?" Phil asked looking at Dan's cheek. It was starting to go down, but it was still pretty prominent. Dan didn't want to talk about it. Even though it was a few days ago now, he was still sensitive.

"I don't really want to talk about it, thanks," Dan whispered, worried he might cry.

"I don't wanna talk about mine, either, but maybe we could help each other..." Phil said, in a sort of questioning or desperate way.

"We trade stories, ok?" Dan still didn't want to tell his, but the boy looked like he needed help. The cut on his cheek was now fully exposed and there were minor grazes around the edge but a deep cut in the middle.

"Fine, but can you go first?" Dan said quickly. He didn't mean it in an aggressive way but he accidentally made his voice forceful. Phil flinched away - or Dan thought he did - but it may have been his imagination.

"U-um...ok.." Phil began. It appeared that he hadn't actually thought dan was going to agree, "Well, at my school... people don't like me very much. I'm not sure why but it might be because I'm Bi?" Phil said.

"Wait, you're bisexual?" Dans voice suddenly filled with hope, "Same, bro!" He was ecstatic. Dan sort of liked Phil: his little mumble, the way he shuffles without picking his feet up off the ground, and when he laughs his tongue pokes out a little bit through his teeth. He was cute.

Phil, slightly taken aback, struggled for words after this. "Well, um, yeah." He had to stop and think about what he was going to say next, almost forgetting his own story. "Um yeah so people don't like me because of it. Yesterday this one kid called Joe tripped me and I fell into a metal bin outside. It doesn't really hurt, I've had worse." Phil slowed down at the end, hesitantly wondering if he shouldn't have said the last part.

"Wait, does the asshat Joe do that to you often?" Dan asked, concerned for this near-stranger.

"I wouldn't say often, but like two or three times a week. Other football players do it other days though. But I said it's no big deal," Phil replied guiltily.

Dan was lost for words and Phil just inhaled deeply then closed his eyes, trying his best not to cry. Dan had these horrible images of phil being shoved into a locker or being beaten up in the corridor.   
"What other things do they do to you?" He asked.

"This wasn't part of our deal, Dan,"

"Please,"' He said, "I want to help you,"

"Well, um, there are like these two main guys, Joe and Caspar, and I have like, rules I have to follow when I'm around them an-" Phil began, but Dan interrupted.

"THATS BULLSHIT, MAN" He said too loudly. "Uh.. Sorry. Can you tell me the rules? I wanna know everything about it,"

"Well, firstly, I'm not allowed to talk to them, at all. I'm not allowed to make noises when they're hitting me. I'm not allowed to tell anyone about them, or they said they'll kill me." He stopped at the last one and gulped. He had stopped talking.

"Mate, it's ok I won't tell anyone anything," Dan reassured the black haired boy.

"If I have any money on me, I have to give it to them immediately, and if I don't give them any they search my bag."

"Man, that must suck. But hey, aren't you glad I got you out of school today then!" Dan said, trying to lighten the mood. Phil said nothing.

The silence was over quickly though, as Phil tried to brush off the bad mood of his story. "So where'd you get your bruise?"

Dan looked down at the ground - it was his time to be nervous.


	6. Dan's Life - Part 6

"Dan, honey, we're going to church. Do you want to come with?" Sarah called up to her new son's room where he was no doubt hiding on his phone.

"No thanks, Sarah, I think I might give it a miss today."

Dan was not religious. He didn't want to go to church ever, but he was put with the stupid Mormon parents. They have crossed up all around their house. On Dan's first day as their son, they took him crucifix shopping for his room. He chose an intricately carved ebony wood cross with a man on it that bore a horribly and creepily similar resemblance to Dylan. Ollie approved and purchased it at great expense. Dan just thought it was ugly.

Sarah knocked on Dan's door and entered without an answer. Dan looked up horrified and scrambled to put the item he was holding under his pillow or down the side of his desk. 

"Sarah, what the he-" Dan stopped himself from finishing his sentence - blasphemy was not permitted in the Barrys' household. "Sarah, what are you doing in here?" 

He was panicked. He had one hand resting his head on it with his elbow covering his drawing and his other hand stuck under his own pillow. He was in the least natural position, but he was trying his best to not look suspicious. 

Sarah's smile faltered. "Danny, bear, what are you hiding?" She said, trying to seem reassuring and gentle but just coming off as patronising. Her wispy grey hair was flying all over the place and as she leant right in towards Dan's face he could feel it stroke his skin and he could smell the mint imperials mixed with sherry on her breath. Although she had grey hair, she was still quite young. Her face was still smooth and dewy and her equally Mormon husband looked like he hadn't ages since he was twenty one. 

"Dan, don't be ashamed, just let your mom see," she said in her sickly sweet voice. Dan gulped loudly then didn't move. His elbow was still blocking his sketches and he was trying to wedge his magazine underneath him. Sarah reached down and forced Dan's hand away. She picked up the magazine and Dan just looked at the floor. This was all his fault - he had let his guard down. 

She looked at the front cover for a few moments before dropping it, but her face didn't move. Dan's copy of Men Monthly was lying face up on the floor. The figure on the front wasn't wearing any clothes apart from a bow tie and a black thong. 

"DANIEL, THIS IS DISGRACEFUL!" She shouted, making Dan leap out of his seat to stand infront of her. He was taller, but you could tell who was in charge. This, then, revealed the sketch Dan was working on. An elegant lower half of a male, with extreme detail in the penis.

"OLIVER, GET UP HERE NOW!" She screeched, and Ollie powered up the stairs  Dan could hear his heavy, muscly footsteps echo through the house. 

"Danny, we are going to go to church and we are going to pray for you honey, it's going to be alright. You can pray here if you want. We will do everything. You can get therapy if God doesn't help in time." She started saying quickly, listing anything she could think of that could help. 

"No, Sarah, MOM, this is who I am. Praying won't change it," Sarah was still looking at the magazine on the floor, but brought her eyes up to Dan as she closed the sketchbook, not wanting to look at it. 

Just at that moment of silence, Ollie entered the room, almost taking the door off its hinges. 

"What's the matte-" He stopped talking when his eyes landed on the magazine that was filled with close-to-nude male models. He immediately looked at Dan and slapped him. Hard. 

"Ollie!" Dan shouted. 

"Oliver!" Sarah was panicking now. 

"Dan, how could you own such sinful things? This is horrible. This is not what God's plan is!" He was angry really angry. Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He took a deep breath, and seemed as though he was counting to three. 

He opened his scrunched eyes and looked at Dan for a long time. "We are going to pray, little boy, we are going to pray until you are forgiven."

"Pray, Dan, we'll be back after church. We will pray" Sarah said, trying to be calm and seem like the best parent in the world. 

She was shit at pretending to be nice.


	7. Phil's Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ++again, I have nothing against Joe Sugg or Caspar Lee, I was just lazy and couldn't thing up any more names ok plz don't hurt me++

Phil stepped through the gates of school with a fresh plaster on my face. He had parked his car badly, but didn't bother to correct it. He just left it in the car park. 

With his head down, he moved towards his locker. It was right by the front entrance of the building, so you really couldn't miss it. Especially if you were looking for it. 

Two people were loitering around Phil's locker. One wearing a football jacket with the logo of a lion on the chest and another wearing a T-shirt with a matching lion on it. The guy wearing a baseball jacket ran his fingers through his messy brown quiff and laughed attractively. As much as Phil hated him, he couldn't deny that Joe Sugg was an attractive boy. 

His sidekick, Caspar Lee, laughed with his thick South African accent. He turned his head and looked straight towards Phil. He muttered something to Joe and they both chuckled. 

"Hey, fag," Joe called out to Phil. The black haired boy rolled his eyes and walked up towards his locker. With the two boys on either side, he sheepishly opened his locker and stick his head in desperately searching for his chemistry book so he could go to class. 

"We were talking to you, pretty boy," Caspar took hold of Phil's shoulder and shoved it against the lockers, forcing him to look up at them. 

"Now look, I have a little problem," Joe explained, "I spent all of my money on...stuff, so now I have no money for lunch...and as my friend, Philly," Joe reached out and stroked Phil's cheek menacingly, "you wouldn't mind lending me some change, would ya buddy,"

Both of the football players chuckled. 

"I don't have any," Phil whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Sorry what was that?" Caspar asked mockingly. 

"We can't hear you, fairy," Joe laughed. Phil tried to speak up, but out of fear it didn't sound much different.

Without warning, Phil doubled over out of pain with Caspar's fist deep inside his stomach. He wretched and thought he was going to vomit.

They pushed his head down so he fell face first into the floor. They grabbed his bag and rummaged through. Phil looked up and just watched them destroy his possessions. 

Joe reached in and pulled out a tatty looking folder with post-it-notes sticking out of it.   
"Wait, are these chemistry notes? Thank god I've found these - I'm failing and really need to catch up" Phil let out a dismayed whimper-grunt noise as Joe skipped off. The bell rang and Phil stood up, still very conscious of Caspar watching him. Then, the blonde boy leaned in and whispered:

"See you at lunch, fairy,"

He was so close to Phil's face they could hear each other breathing. Caspar lifted his hand to Phil's face and painfully ripped the plaster off his cut, tearing the wound open again. 

~~~~~

Lunch came around in a flash. Phil had thought of nothing other than the boy at the crèche - Dan. His beautiful chestnut eyes and his constantly-perfect curly hair. 

Dan had told Phil his story. It was way worse. Phil felt a little stupid about what to say afterwards - Dan was so strong and Phil cried every night about his tiny little problems. Joe and Caspar were nothing compared to Dan's life. 

Phil knew where he needed to go. Round the back of the school there is a small building that no one goes into. It was an abandoned music room - the school had built a newer one so just left the old one behind. Phil went into the small path in between the main school and the abandoned building. And there he waited.

A few minutes later, Joe and Caspar sauntered up towards him, taking about some party they went to. 

"Oh hey, Philly," Caspar laughed. 

"Hello, Caspar," Phil said on his quiet manner. He was then immediately pushed into the red brick wall of the alley.

"You've got something wrong, there, mate," he whispered through the black hair of the boy into his ear, "you do not call me or any of my friends by our first name, you got that?" He didn't wait for a response, so Phil assumed it was rhetorical "Me and Joe go by Sir, ok?"

Phil let a tear trickle down his cheek and fall on the floor. He was so done with this. He just wanted to go home. Talk to Dan. Play with Tabby. Do anything but be here. He didn't want to call anybody Sir.

Joe chimed in from behind the other two boys "Now Philly, you missed our little meeting yesterday, didn't you" He said menacingly. He leaned in to Phil, whose face was still pushed into the brick wall, "so you're going to get double today," 

Both he and Caspar whispered, and Phil stayed silent. He just wanted Dan. Wanted Dan to come and save him from the shit that he was in.

Suddenly, as if Phil had summoned him, Dan came round the corner of the building and marched up to Joe and punched him square in the face. He took one look at Caspar, who was still holding Phil to the wall, and twisted his arm and kicked him in the ribs, like the football team had done to Phil countless times before. Phil was free and he and Dan ran off together through the courtyard and out into a field of flowers Phil had never seen before. They then lay down and looked at the sky together. 

Except that's not what happened. Phil's face was still pressed into a wall and Dan was nowhere in sight. Just two laughing idiots. 

Caspar held Phil's face into the wall - he couldn't blink easily and he was struggling to breathe. Joe also had one of his hands on the back Phil's neck and had a bright pink bow white a clip on the back. 

He scratched it into Phil's skin as deep as it would go, then pinned his fringe in an uncomfortable twist. Phil couldn't let out a huge gasp as they let him go and he fell to the ground. 

~~~~~~

For the rest of the day, Phil stumbled around his classes, able to think straight. His whole torso was bloodied and cut and his face was going to be very bruised in the morning. They said he was going to get double and they didn't disappoint.

It was a bad day. Phil got weird looks as he walked through the corridors, only realising a few moments later about the sparkling pink bow in his hair. 

They said they'd kill him if he took it out. 

He didn't want to take that risk.


	8. Dan's Life - Part 5

Dan woke groggily on his thin uncomfortable mattress. He was lying down for a moment before hitting his alarm clock that had started constantly playing the Tetris backing track. It's only when he sat up that he remembered what day it was. He looked around his small, unpersonalised room and saw his black duffel bagful fully packed, sitting by the door. 

He had no time to have breakfast. He took his bag after he was dressed and he walked through the halls of St. Margaret's, peering into some of the open doors. 

They walked past one that had loud music coming from it. Another one that was open was Curly and 

Shelly led him to her car. He leaped in and put his seatbelt on. There was silence on the short ride to the Sivan household, but it was a silence of anticipation. 

Dan had been to the Sivan's loads of times before on visits or trials or whatever, but today, he was moving in. This was going to be the start of his life. He was going to be happy again.

They went through a weird procedure when they were at Dan's new home, but he wasn't allowed to listen. He just went up to his new bedroom and unpacked his small amount of belongings. It was fine though, because Troye and Connor, his new Dads were going to buy him more things. 

"So, how are you, Dan?" Troye asked over lunch. He had a calming voice and was a really nice person. When they first met, Dan remembers going to the park and they got ice cream. Connor was away at work, but over the weeks, Dan had grown to love him too.

"I'm good thanks, Dad" Dan said. He hadn't called anyone dad in a long time, but it felt great. 

"So, we were just wondering if you wanted to come to dinner with us. We are just going across the road. There's this lovely couple, Rose and Annabelle, and they would love to meet you. 

Dan was becoming a bit overwhelmed. He couldn't meet this many people and remember all their names.

"Do you mind if we have dinner here? I just really want to get settled in." He asked, hoping not to offend. 

"Oh sure, that's cool" Connor said, smiling warmly. "We hope you're ok with our neighbourhood. There are a lot of LGBT couples around, like us," he said, leaning over and kissing his husband. 

"I wouldn't have agreed to live with you if I don't like it," Dan chuckled, "and anyway, I'm bisexual,"

"Aw sweet, that's great. You'll fit in really well here."

 

~~~~~~

 

The next five months were the happiest Dan could remember. He had loving carers, friends, he went to school and graduated, and he was out of St. Margaret's for good. He was going to go to a nearby college. All was well. It was the conversation the family had during the summer that brought it crashing down. 

"Now, Dan," Connor started, "we love you and we love you very much," he said, but Connor interrupted him, "Danny, we need to talk about where you are moving on to," he said with sad eyes. 

Dan was confused. "Moving on to? What are you talking about?" He questioned. 

"We all know this was only going to be a short term foster. Now that our time together is running out, we need to consider a more permanent adoption." One of his Dads said. He wasn't really sure which one, because he was in a complete daze. He never knew. He had heard whispers about it, or when someone brought it up he thought it was a joke. But this didn't sound like a joke.

 

~~~~~

Dan thought he was going to wake up from his dream. He just went along with it. He had this absurd fantasy that he was just going to wake up and be back having dinner with his Dads. 

That didn't happen. The long five months of happiness were over, and he was going to have to find happiness somewhere else. In a different house. With different parents. Who would be different. Dan hadn't worked out to what extent that they were different, however, until the couple opened the front door. 

You see, when the woman vigorously opened her front door, the thin wall surrounding it shuddered, and crashing down onto the welcome mat with paws on it was a big wooden crucifix.

Dan looked into the eyes of the man and knew he didn't like him. He looked at the woman and thought nothing. He didn't hate her, but he didn't love her. But he definitely didn't like her.


End file.
